


Nesting Impulses

by hypernomad



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:21:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypernomad/pseuds/hypernomad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sex education really left a lot to be desired, especially when you were an Omega man living in world where your kind were rare, scorned and marginalised. He'd always thought, then, that it was a good thing he'd attracted an Alpha as smart and protective as Ian, but it was a little hard to remember his good qualities when his bastard woke him up at four in the morning every freaking day. Between raising a child, putting up with his and Ian's hormonal whims, trying to stay afloat financially and navigating a world that made no space for people like him, Mickey was surprised he hadn't had a heart attack yet. (A/B/O universe, contains Mpreg.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nesting Impulses

**Author's Note:**

> (Oh man, I'm sorry for that title. I am an entity of smush and unoriginality.) So, uh, I finally caved and wrote A/B/O and Mpreg. I know, I know, not everyone's cup of tea, but that's the beauty of fanworks I guess. It will go backwards and forwards several times; beginning with Ian and Mickey as parents with flashbacks to how they got there throughout the story. I've never written an A/B/O AU or in this format before, so bear with me if I fuck up at any point. Try to enjoy it anyway, and I hope I don't fry your brain too much with the timeline. //On hiatus//

Mickey woke up to the now-familiar sound of gurgling not far away from his face. It was a strange sound, but it brought a wide grin to his face anyway. A short distance away from him on the mattress was a small, wriggling baby, babbling a little bit as he chewed on a toy set of plastic keys and kicked his legs in his grey onesie playfully. The bed sheets were a mess around Mickey’s waist and the other side of the bed was otherwise empty. Yawning, Mickey sat up and glanced at the clock on the wooden chair beside the bed that they used a nightstand. It read 7:53. Ian would be leaving for work in forty minutes or so, which meant that he was probably showering or making breakfast.

As if on cue, the redhead walked in with a towel around his waist and grinned when he saw Mickey sitting up in bed. “Morning.” He greeted, walking over to the dresser and dropping his towel.

Mickey hummed appreciatively. “Good morning,” he said. Ian laughed and pulled on a pair of boxers and then a dark blue t-shirt that was a few years old and did wonders for his abs. Mickey licked over his lower lip and smiled when Ian walked over to him, kissed him on the mouth and then leaned over to where the baby was laying.

“Good morning to you too, little dude.” Ian said, before making several stupid faces at the infant until he got a squeaking giggle from him. “Who slept through the night last night, huh? Who’s a good, quiet baby?”

“Ian, don’t fucking say that!” Mickey groaned. “You know what happens. Every time we say ‘wow, he hasn’t woken us up during the night at all lately!’, he _always_ starts screaming at four in the morning all over again. It’s like he waits until our sleep patterns get back on track and then decides to fuck it all up again. Annoying little shit.”

“Mickey, he’s four and a half months old. He has the mental capacity of a tortoise. He doesn’t even have the cognitive function to control his own bowels yet, let alone deliberately fuck with your sleeping patterns.” Ian said, glancing at Mickey and rubbing the baby’s tummy gently.

“Nuh-uh. That science magazine in the living room says that they can understand words by the time they’re six months old.”

“So, what, he’s listening to our conversations so he can work out ways to screw with us? Is that what you’re saying?! Good god, Mickey, we’ve birthed the Antichrist! All those Bible-thumping assholes are right!” Ian said, his voice getting louder and louder.

“Alright, alright, douchebag, I get it. Shut up before he starts screaming again.”

Laughing, Ian stroked Mickey’s knee and glanced back down at the baby again. He was still chewing his set of toy keys, but the end of one of them had gotten lodged up his nostril (not that he appeared to be bothered about it). His little legs thudded into Ian’s face lightly with each kick.

“I’m starting to wonder whether we should have named him something else. Dexter sounds too… I don’t know. I’m just not sure if it suits him.” Mickey said, picking up a packet of cigarettes from the chair and then tossing it back down again in annoyance when he found it was empty.

“For the fiftieth fucking time, we’re not naming our child after a psychotic axe-wielding doll. Besides, you lost that bet anyway. Accept it already.” Ian said, pulling the end of the plastic red key from his son’s nose.

They’d had an agreement that if Dexter came out with red hair, then Ian would consider naming him Chucky at Mickey’s request. However, the gods had shown rare mercy in giving their child a large amount of jet-black hair that stood up in all directions instead, and after much debate, they had agreed on a name.

“It would’ve been so cool on Hallowe’en though. All the other kids would’ve been so jealous.” Mickey muttered, stroking their tortoiseshell cat that had just leapt up onto the bed and was now purring, kneading the pillow next to him and smelling unpleasantly of cat food.

“Yeah, and for the rest of the year they would tease the fuck out of him. Take it from a ginger who lived it.” Ian said, sitting up and scooping the child up in his arms. “Besides, Dexter is a cool name. And you picked it anyway, so I don’t know what you’re bitching about.”

“Hm.” Mickey said, looking at the child and cocking his head to one side.

“I don’t think you’d want to go though the bullshit we had to go through when it came to getting his birth certificate processed properly all over again anyway. The last thing we need is another potential law suit.” Ian said, rocking the child in his arms and smiling down at him, rubbing his tummy a little bit.

“Damn fuckin’ right. I swear to god, I will always regret not punching that fat fucking asshole in the face, with his _‘~God doesn’t want Omega males to have babies_ ~’ bullshit. Then why the fuck would he give me one, you steaming pile of dog shit?!” Mickey spat. “Do we have _any_ smokes in this house? Jesus…” He added, rummaging around under the chair. Given the relative scarcity of Omega males, the government thought it was okay to completely ignore the possibility of one becoming pregnant by making it virtually impossible to register the birth of a baby born to an Omega man and an Alpha. Needless to say, it was the bureaucratic equivalent of a train wreck, and they’d had to deal with more than their fair share of assholes over the last year.

“Calm down, Mick. Remember what the doctor said.” Ian replied gently, before he stood up and passed Dexter to the other man. Mickey took him and then laid down so that the now-sleepy infant was lying on his chest.

“Did you change him and whatever?” Mickey asked, pulling the blankets around himself properly and stroking his snoozing baby’s hair.

“Yep, changed and fed.” Ian replied and stood up straight. Yawning, he walked over to their disaster zone of a closet to fish out a pair of jeans. It took him a few moments of sorting through the mess of clothes, plastic bags, shoes and coat hangers on the floor of the wardrobe for him to find a pair of his own jeans. “Fuck, there’s literally more on the floor in here than there is hanging up.” Ian laughed, and then somehow managed to trip over something. Mickey laughed from behind him as Ian braced himself against the wall to stand up straight. “Shut up, not all of us have the luxury of layin’ in bed all morning.” Ian laughed, before he finally found a pair of his own jeans and pulled them on.

“No, take as much time as you want, I’m enjoying the view.” Mickey said from the bed, grinning at Ian’s bent-over form.

Ian grinned and did up his zipper. “Alright, I’m going to make breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, what do you want?” He asked, holding onto the doorframe as he made his way out of their room.

“Hm… pancakes.” Mickey said, grinning.

“You want mustard on them again?” Ian asked.

“Ew, no. God, what was I even thinking?” Mickey asked, screwing his face up.

Ian laughed and left to make breakfast.

*

_Eighteen months earlier_

The gig at the removal company was a surprising success. Ian had heard through Kev that a buddy of his who drank at the Alibi had recently been laid off from his job at the foundry. He was looking to start a removal business and was on the hunt for muscle to do the grunt work. Though he’d been dubious at first about hiring a Milkovich, after a three week trial period, he’d accepted that not only was Mickey good at lifting and hauling despite his height, but having a Milkovich around was also good for chasing down customers who tried to weasel out of paying, too.

Eventually, he and Ian had become tired of their current living situation; living between both of their houses was stressful and annoying even if they were literally only a few blocks away from each other, and it was getting riskier and riskier when Terry was in and out of jail like a revolving door. They never knew if they were going to wake up to him standing over them with an axe or some shit. Plus, with Svetlana demanding that Mickey support and spend time looking after Yavgeny while she worked as the new Madam of the tug shop when he was so clearly uncomfortable around him, things were even harder and it was driving Ian up the wall with rage and jealousy. At Ian’s, Lip was back from college periodically, Jimmy had reappeared to clash with Fiona’s new boyfriend, and Sammi’s trailer was parked next door, housing her, Chuck and Frank (even though they spent half their time in the house for meals and showers anyway). Debbie and Carl were presenting as Beta and Alpha respectively, on top of everything else, and so Ian’s house was just way too crowded and full of pheromones to get any peace. Sheila moving in with them made things impossibly more difficult, given that she had moved into Lip’s bed, Lip and Amanda had moved into Ian’s bed while he’d been staying at Mickey’s, and now he and Mickey were sleeping on a makeshift bed under the stairs.

The last straw came when Mickey had gone into heat and they’d had literally so little privacy that they’d ended up renting a dingy motel room for the week to ride it out. It had ended rather badly, with Mickey coming off of the strange sexual and emotional high his heat hormones gave him and plummeting into a frustrated rage. They’d argued into the night and eventually came to the agreement that they were going to have to find somewhere else to live. Not only were the logistics of their current situation becoming intolerable, but Mickey’s discomfort with being an Omega on top of having to live in such close proximity to so many Alphas and Betas made him feel somewhat vulnerable. For Ian, being a frustrated Alpha around many other Alphas and an Omega mate who wasn’t on birth control or hormone suppressants and no privacy was doing nothing for his mood either.

Over the next couple of weeks, they looked for somewhere to live that was in their price range. Sammi had suggested that they save up to buy a trailer, but given how long that would take on top of buying Ian’s meds every month and contributing towards bills on their pay, it had not been a viable option. Instead, Ian trawled through listings in the newspaper and online every day and Mickey asked around the few family members who were still speaking to him until they had a breakthrough.

V had bumped into a friend at the clinic when she’d taken her babies in for a check-up. Apparently, this friend of hers had a brother who was arrested over a weed farm he’d had growing in an apartment near Fuller Park. V managed to get the address of the place and within a fortnight they’d signed the lease. Luckily, the landlord was looking to rent it out quickly and had settled for a lowered price given the state of it.

They spent two weeks cleaning everything up and redecorating, and, after an unsurprisingly drunken move-in day (which ended in a half-assed game of beer pong played over the fence of the adjacent baseball field where there was an empty polystyrene cup sitting on the grass), they finally had their own home, with their own things in it and nobody around to interrupt them.

After Lip and Kev left, they ordered take-out and laid on their mattress. The bed frame would have to wait to be assembled tomorrow.

“So. We’re finally here, huh?” Ian asked wistfully to the ceiling.

“Guess so.” Mickey replied, blowing smoke upwards.

“We’re finally free. Mick, _you’re_ finally free!” Ian whispered with a wide grin.

“Ian, I’m not Dobby the fuckin’ House Elf. Talk properly or shut the fuck up.”

“Holy shit, you’re a Potterhead too?”

“Potter-what?”

“Nothing…”

It was quiet for a few more minutes when Ian began sniffing the air. After a few moments, he leaned towards the older man and inhaled a deep breath of his neck. “You’re in heat.” He said, matter-of-factly.

“I’m due in a couple of days. Jesus, what the fuck is with your nose lately? You did this last time.” Mickey said as Ian began leaving hickeys all over his neck and rubbing against him impatiently.

“No, you’re in heat now. I can tell. Your cycle must have changed.” Ian said, rubbing his face around the older boy’s neck.

There was a wetness in his ass that was going to be leaving a stain before long, so it was just as well that Ian was now trying to tear his clothes off. They undressed in record time, their heart rates speeding up and kneeling on their makeshift bed, naked and pressed against each other as they kissed. Mickey groaned and rubbed his dick against Ian's where it was pressed against his stomach eagerly. Ian returned to licking and laving over his neck, desperate to sink his teeth into the back of it and mark Mickey as his. They’d had the conversation though; they weren’t ready for that just yet. Although it took all of Ian’s willpower not to bond with the older man during heats, he wasn’t going to force Mickey into that against his will, especially when they were on a hormone high and would probably freak out about it later.

So, for the time being, he would settle for knotting him every time he went into heat. They really ought to be more careful, though this was easier said than done; usually, they just used condoms since birth control for Omega males was different and supposedly more complex than birth control for Omega females, and was subsequently about four times as expensive.

Nevertheless, Ian pressed his mouth over Mickey’s again and reached a hand down between his ass cheeks to rub his middle finger through the wetness around his hole. After a few minutes, Mickey pulled his mouth away from Ian’s and pressed back against it eagerly. “Fuck—please,” he moaned out, panting and spreading his legs a little wider.

“Lay down,” Ian ordered. Mickey immediately did as he was told and laid back on the mattress, opening his legs wider and sighing as Ian settled between them. After a few moments of shuffling around, Ian slid inside of him with a groan and Mickey winced. “Sorry, did I hurt you?” He gasped out, stroking over the older man’s face protectively.

“No, no man, just- fuck, please move.” It was always overwhelming, having Ian inside of him; everything in his body welcomed it and revelled in it, but emotionally it always felt almost painfully tender to Mickey. Ian made him feel like a bruise; the emotions Ian made him feel were soft and good and overwhelmingly intense, but it felt like if Ian left his body or pulled away from him, he would shatter and die. It was simultaneously the best and worst feeling.

Ian bit his lip and began thrusting in and out of him, holding himself up on his arms and rolling his hips rhythmically while his dick twitched inside of his mate. Mickey was feeling so weird and sun-dazed and Ian was a little loopy from the combined effects of his meds and the alcohol. Before long, Ian was knotting him and Mickey was gasping and groaning as they rolled their hips together. Ian’s abs were rubbing against his dick between them repeatedly and he let out a choking moan at the sensation of the redhead’s cock grazing over his sweet spot.

Growling, Ian sped up his thrusts. Mickey arched his back and grappled at the flesh of Ian’s shoulders desperately as they hurtled towards the finish line. Throwing his head back, Mickey yelled loudly and came across his chest, and with a series of grunts, Ian followed, pressing himself deeply inside the other boy and holding his come inside of the smaller man for as long as he could, his hips stuttering and his eyes boring into Mickey’s the whole time.

When he was finished, he collapsed against the older boy and panted, and Mickey groaned as he stroked over Ian’s back languidly. Sighing, Mickey ran a hand through his hair and stroked his forehead, wiped away the sweat and placed a trail of kisses over his face. When he caught his breath, Ian sat up and looked at the other boy. He was looking at him all starry-eyed, but Mickey realised that he was probably doing the same in return. It was a weird hormonal by-product of the heat; in the brief time between rounds of sex, things were very intimate and tender. With a smile, he leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. It was a long kiss, but eventually Mickey pulled away since it was an awkward position to crane his head into.

“Sorry.” Ian whispered, resting his forehead against Mickey’s chest.

“The fuck are you apologising for?” Mickey asked without any real venom, rubbing his face against Ian’s when the redhead leaned up and nuzzled his neck.

“I just- we didn’t last as long.” Ian said, his voice sounding a little disappointed.

“Yeah, well, I only just went into heat and we’ve been moving shit around all day. We're tired. It’ll pick up.” He explained, running his hands though Ian’s hair.

Ian closed his eyes and groaned, rubbing his hands over Mickey’s sides gently. “M’really tired too.” He mumbled.

“Then go to sleep. You’re still knotted. I’ll be here when you wake up whether you like it or not.” Mickey replied gently, smiling a little. Ian always got hyper-protective during heats; it was just as well he was practically joined to him for most of the duration.

“G’night.” Ian mumbled, yawned, and promptly fell asleep.

Mickey sighed. It was a strange feeling to be able to finally go sleep in their own bed, knotted and not having to move or rush to get dressed like they’d had to for months. It was an even weirder thought that they’d probably never have to again. Something about that fact seemed to satisfy something inside of him. He’d read online somewhere about Omegas and ‘nesting impulses’; although it usually happened once they were bonded to an Alpha, it had been known to occur when they had just been with the same one for some time. In retrospect, it was what had triggered his frustrated rage during his last heat…

Frowning, he tried to quell the knot of shame inside of him. He knew it was just how he was wired, and he was certainly built for it, but being an Omega felt so at odds with his personality. Ian said that he’d just learned to be ashamed of it because of Terry and his weird obsession with having Alpha-only sons, and that if he’d been raised better, then he’d probably have just embraced it.

Mickey thought it was a crock of shit. He was who he was; there was no denying that, and plenty of Omega males went through the same thing. Many took hormone suppressants their whole lives and bonded with Omega women. Mickey was thankful that he’d made his peace with it, and he figured that if it kept Ian coming back for more, then he didn’t have much to complain about.

In any case, with the nesting impulses (or whatever they were) apparently satisfied for now, a large part of Mickey tried not to think about what other surprises his Omega status had in store for him as he drifted off to sleep. 


End file.
